Only Fools Don't Fall Once More
by SocialDegenerate
Summary: A determined Imayoshi chases, while Harasawa tries to resist what he wants but can't have. Things had to come to a head eventually. 'Remain impartial'; as if he could when it came to that menace of a captain.
1. Forbidden Fruit

_Remain impartial_.

Teach, coach, grade, drink, repeat. Be a good enough teacher that the students learn what they need to, but put up a wall that stops them from thinking that you're their friend.

It had worked for Harasawa through fifteen years at the front of the classroom, so why did it feel like everything was suddenly beginning to fall apart?

Actually, he knew why. Without a doubt, he knew _exactly_ why it felt like fifteen years of carefully-maintained distance were shattering in an instant. Nothing he'd ever experienced before could have prepared him for the figurative hurricane that was Imayoshi Shouichi, a truly destructive force hidden behind a pleasant smile and false politeness.

The boy's first two years at Touou hadn't been an issue for Harasawa, considering that the basketball team had been their only point of contact and even then, there were nine other first-string boys who needed their coach's attention. It had been easy enough for Harasawa to ignore the moments when it felt like Imayoshi's hidden gaze was lingering on him for just a touch too long.

Despite the fact that he didn't click to Imayoshi's intentions for quite some time, it wasn't as if Harasawa was unused to that kind of attention from students. He knew that he was a handsome man, particularly when compared to Touou's other teachers, and so it wasn't entirely unusual for him to have to blatantly ignore those students who mistakenly believed that they had even the slightest chance with him, or delicately handle the more upfront and persistent ones.

He had never, _would never_ touch a student, not that any of them had ever been any sort of temptation. They were _children_ , less than half of his age and lacking pretty much all of the qualities that Harasawa looked for in a partner. Even if he put all moral issues aside- and oh there were _many-_ he wouldn't have wanted any of them anyway.

But then Imayoshi Shouichi happened, and Harasawa found himself wondering if he should just quit his job before an angry mob was out for his pervert blood. He shouldn't have made the boy captain, considering that by virtue of their respective positions their time spent together grew exponentially, but Imayoshi's apparent fascination with him hadn't been worth jeopardising the team's chances of success.

He'd picked the best person for the captain's position, and at first it had been fine. Imayoshi watched him constantly throughout his third year chemistry classes and basketball training sessions, but he never said or did anything that could be considered even vaguely inappropriate. Even when they were alone, sorting through club business together, Imayoshi did nothing more than stare a little too intently and smile that unsettling smile of his.

Harasawa got the feeling that he only knew of Imayoshi's behaviour because the boy wanted him to see it, which Harasawa assumed was Imayoshi's way of sniffing out his chances without actually having to stick his neck out. In any case, he wasn't complaining. It was easy for him to ignore stares, to pretend that he didn't notice them, and as Imayoshi's third year slowly ticked by Harasawa began to feel more and more secure that the boy had taken the hint.

There had been plenty of opportunities for him to say or do something more obvious, but Imayoshi never did and so Harasawa felt himself relax as much as someone could around a person as devious and scheming as Imayoshi Shouichi.

He should have guessed that it was a trap, but he'd let his guard down and walked straight into the spider's web, and now he found himself pinned in place as surely as he would have been if physical ropes had been involved.

It had started as a normal day, Harasawa going through the usual motions of teaching and coaching with his usual awareness of the hot gaze burning holes in him whenever Imayoshi was in the vicinity. Then he and his captain had moved to his office to go over team issues and new training plans, taking advantage of the fact that Imayoshi lived in the dorms literally two minutes walk away to let the meeting go a little later than it should have.

It had already been a long day, and Harasawa stifled a yawn as he and Imayoshi wrapped up their meeting. Despite the fact that Harasawa was gathering together the papers they'd been reading over, Imayoshi made no move to get up from his seat, his mostly-hidden eyes trained on the movement of Harasawa's hand up to his mouth as he forced back his yawning.

"Oh, I hadn't realised how late it's gotten," Imayoshi said pleasantly. _Lie_ , Harasawa immediately thought, although it wasn't enough for him to yet realise that Imayoshi was up to something.

"I should let you go," the boy continued, still not making any move to leave. "I'm sure that your girlfriend will be wondering where you are."

"I'm single," Harasawa murmured absent-mindedly as he placed his folder back into his bag, too busy wondering if he could get away with sneaking some of the whisky in the flask sitting at the bottom of his drawer before leaving for home. It took him a moment before he even realised that he'd slipped up, shattering the illusion of being taken that he projected in an effort to discourage certain students from trying to pursue him.

Once he realised what he'd said, he glanced at Imayoshi to gauge his reaction only to find the boy sitting there looking entirely like he had already known that his teacher was utterly and extensively single. Knowing that any kind of backtracking was impossible, Harasawa went back to packing his bag, hoping that Imayoshi would take the hint and leave.

He didn't.

"Really? A man as handsome as yourself, with a former successful athletic career and a current steady teaching career, single? I hope that no one is spreading unsavoury rumours regarding circumstances that might cause you not to have a wife."

The way that Imayoshi stressed the final word made his intentions painfully clear to Harasawa, who was experiencing the sinking realisation that he really had walked blindly into Imayoshi's trap. If he lied, Imayoshi would know in an instant, but if he feigned ignorance or avoided answering the underlying question then Imayoshi would just keep finding new ways to try and trick the information out of him.

Wanting to just go back to his apartment where he could be peacefully alone, Harasawa decided to cut off Imayoshi's unspoken speculation before he could really get started. "I can tell what you're getting at, Imayoshi, and that kind of thing is utterly inappropriate to ask your teacher, or for a teacher to discuss with a student. If you have nothing else to say regarding the team or your chemistry homework, then you are excused."

"Why Sensei, I don't know what you could possibly mean, but I'll get out of your hair." Finally standing up, Imayoshi's smile widened as he leant forward over Harasawa's desk, making the older man go to pull back. His office was small, though, and his chair could only go back so far before he hit the wall and was trapped in place, Imayoshi's face looming too close to his own to be anywhere near the realm of appropriate teacher-student interactions.

He could feel warm breath on his skin but that was all, Imayoshi being careful not to touch him even with their faces as close together as they were. Harasawa was frozen in place, every single memory of the times he'd caught himself vaguely admiring the angular set of Imayoshi's face and his well-toned body flashing through his mind all at once.

"Goodnight, _Harasawa-Sensei_ ," Imayoshi murmured into Harasawa's ear, his usual empty polite tone falling away to be replaced by something hotter, rumbling from deep in his chest and sounding like the kind of thing that would have Harasawa on his knees if it was coming from an attractive _adult_.

He didn't have a retort and Imayoshi knew it, his eyes actually opening past halfway as he pulled back and grinned, slinging his bag over his shoulder and disappearing from the room now that he'd done his damage. Harasawa's heart pounded as he finally found the ability to move, slumping forward on his desk and burying his face in his hands.

He couldn't help but feel like he'd unintentionally given Imayoshi the information that the boy had been angling for about his bisexuality, and at the same time he knew that Imayoshi had only just begun to reveal his hand. Things were about to get messy, and Harasawa knew that he'd be lucky to get out of it with his career and reputation intact.

Deciding that one more potentially job-ending action wasn't going to have much more of an effect than the things he'd already done wrong in one night, he reached for his drawer and the flask within it, flicking off the lid and drinking deeply straight from the metal container.

He was so, so fucked.


	2. Who Knows What Evil Lurks

As Harasawa had predicted, Imayoshi's behaviour changed now that he had openly demonstrated his intentions. The boy was too smart to do anything that could jeopardise Harasawa's job, but as it turned out he knew plenty of ways to drive Harasawa to absolute distraction without anyone else having even the slightest clue what was happening.

It seemed that every time he glanced towards the centre of the room during his third year chemistry lessons, Imayoshi's eyes were tracking him even more intently than he had beforehand; but he was a teacher in front of a class, and so any outsiders would simply see an attentive student paying close attention.

The boy had also taken to spending his lunch breaks at the tables just outside of the teacher's lounge, meaning that whenever Harasawa happened to look out of the room's big windows, he could see Imayoshi's smiling face as he talked with his friends, a group of boys both from the basketball team and not who came nowhere close to Imayoshi's levels of intelligence, maturity and purely objective good looks. For the very first time, Harasawa caught himself wishing that Imayoshi was more like Aomine, willing to spend his time utterly out of sight on the roof of the school.

Training, though, was an entirely different kind of hell.

Harasawa was determined not to be tempted or swayed by anything that Imayoshi chose to do, considering how utterly _wrong_ anything even a smidgen away from platonic was, but Imayoshi's natural charisma meant that he knew exactly how to draw all eyes towards himself and Harasawa was as helpless as everyone else.

There was nothing he could do when their practice bibs went 'missing'- and Harasawa was fairly certain that Imayoshi knew _exactly_ where they were- and Imayoshi blithely suggested a shirts versus skins method to differentiate the teams, pulling off his top and declaring himself head of the skins team. Harasawa _very obviously_ didn't look at Imayoshi's toned, tight torso, covered in a thin layer of sweat that left him glistening.

Otherwise, Imayoshi seemed to find every opportunity to stand just a bit too close, make fleeting moments of contact that only Harasawa was aware of, or pull up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and expose his stomach. Every moment was accompanied by a knowing smile, and unfortunately Harasawa wasn't willing to tell Imayoshi to knock it off and let the boy know that he was affecting him.

He just ignored everything that the boy threw at him, reminding himself over and over again that he was the adult in the situation and therefore responsible for preventing anything inappropriate from ever happening between them. The only thing he did differently was cancelling their regular coach and captain meetings, completely unwilling to spend any unnecessary time alone with the current bane of his existence.

On the outside, he was fairly certain that he was doing a perfect job of maintaining the illusion of normalcy, and at least Imayoshi wasn't dumb enough to be obvious about what he was doing. Behind closed doors however, things were completely different.

After a particularly horrid training session in which Imayoshi had found a truly obscene number of reasons to bend over in full view of Harasawa, followed up by an uncharacteristically vulgar comment made by Imayoshi to one of the other players about how the single dorm rooms were perfect for private masturbation, Harasawa felt harassed enough that he quickly gathered his things and left the school immediately after practice. As per usual, he could feel Imayoshi's eyes following him, and he felt jumpy and unsettled throughout his entire train ride home.

It took all of a minute of being home for Harasawa to find himself sprawled out on his bed, his shirt shoved halfway up his torso and his pants open just enough for him to pull his cock out. He felt like someone twenty-five years younger as he coaxed himself to full hardness, determined to rid himself of the sexual frustration that Imayoshi had been forcing upon him for a full week.

The little demon's comment about masturbation was at the front of Harasawa's mind and he wondered how Imayoshi liked it, how he touched himself when he was alone in his room. He was too far gone to care about the fact that he was fantasising about one of his students, picturing the boy naked and gracefully draped across his bed as one hand worked his dripping cock, the other maybe slipping down further to play with his tight little asshole.

Harasawa let out a grunt as he thought about how good Imayoshi would look spread out on his fingers or his cock, his normally composed face open and a little dazed from pleasure. Would he like being eaten out? Harasawa wanted nothing more at that moment than to find out the answer to that question and the many others he had, to spend hour after hour finding out _exactly_ how Imayoshi liked to be fucked.

Or, at the very least, to fuck the smug smile off that _bastard's_ face, shoving his dick far enough down Imayoshi's throat that the boy couldn't come out with his usual bullshit. It was to the thought of coming across Imayoshi's face and glasses that Harasawa came in reality, not bothering to quiet his moan as his hips jerked upwards and he spilt into the tissues that he'd had just enough common sense to grab.

His orgasm was fantastic but it didn't take long for the afterglow to abruptly end, replaced instead by the deep, almost physically painful burning of shame in the pit of his stomach. He was a sick, sick man to be turned on by one of his eighteen-year-old students, regardless of how much Imayoshi had been toying with him; why was it so hard for him to just ignore Imayoshi the way he did every other student who had ever thrown themselves at him?

Harasawa shuddered unpleasantly as he tucked himself back into his pants, tossing the dirty tissues on the floor and standing up to walk to the kitchen. He was going to drink until he hated himself a little less, call in sick for the next day of work and then get Imayoshi to stop playing his little games.

The whole thing had gone on long enough, and it had to stop before there were permanent consequences.

* * *

After another personally disastrous training session where Imayoshi apparently felt the need to make up for Harasawa missing the previous day by doubling his seductive efforts, Harasawa dismissed the rest of the team but asked Imayoshi to stay behind. It was common enough for the coach to need to talk to the captain that no one thought anything of his request, but Imayoshi looked uncomfortably knowing before he followed the other boys to the locker room.

At least Harasawa had thought to keep their meeting confined to the gym, rather than letting the boy into the private sanctuary of his office. There was no way that anything untoward would happen in the gym, not with the high likelihood of prying eyes hanging around.

While he waited for Imayoshi to clean up, he had a quick conversation with Momoi, but the girl seemed eager to leave and so he urged her to go, watching her literally skip towards the doors of the gym. He felt slightly better due to the fact that her short skirt and bouncing chest did absolutely nothing for him despite Momoi being an incredibly gorgeous young woman, meaning that he was most likely only a sick, predatory fuck when it came to Imayoshi.

Relief was slight and fleeting though, and Harasawa dealt with his restlessness by grabbing a basketball from the nearby trolley and sinking a perfect basket from beyond the three point line. Despite the fact that his dress shoes and slacks weren't anywhere near right to be playing basketball in, he jogged after the ball and dribbled back onto the court, running a smooth layup that was more difficult than it should have been thanks to his outfit.

It had been too long since he'd just messed around on the court and it felt good to let go a little, the familiar motions helping to quell his rolling emotions regarding his captain. After sinking a particularly nice fadeaway shot he heard the sound of clapping and felt his heart seize up, knowing exactly who was applauding behind him.

Jogging in to grab the rebound, Harasawa took a few moments to compose himself before turning around, only briefly glancing at Imayoshi as he tossed the ball back into the trolley with the others. Just as he was wondering how to start, Imayoshi took the opening away from him, stepping closer and very obviously looking Harasawa's body up and down.

"Your form is gorgeous when you shoot like that," Imayoshi said casually, his tone sounding _far_ too normal for someone who was hitting on their teacher. Harasawa frantically looked around the gym to see if there was anyone around who could have heard that, but it seemed as if everyone had left while he'd been shooting. Still, he felt uncomfortable with Imayoshi talking so openly, and he shook his head once he looked back at his student.

"Don't," he warned, holding eye contact with Imayoshi to portray how serious he was. Imayoshi didn't look the least bit worried but he shrugged anyway, changing the topic immediately.

"We missed you yesterday," the captain drawled, Harasawa hearing the 'I' obviously hidden behind the 'we'. "Seems like you're feeling better, though."

"I'm fine, it must've just been some sort of twenty-four hour bug," Harasawa replied, knowing full well that Imayoshi didn't believe a word he was saying. The boy kept smiling and stepped even closer, glancing around quickly before opening his mouth to say something.

Harasawa was more focused on the hand that moved towards his face, Imayoshi tugging gently on one of the strands of hair that fell onto Harasawa's face the way that Harasawa had a habit of doing himself. The intimacy of the gesture had Harasawa shoving Imayoshi's hand away with more force than he had intended, making Imayoshi's eyes open wide as he stared at Harasawa, hand dangling uselessly in the air where it had been knocked to.

"You have to _stop_ ," Harasawa hissed as he took a step backwards, making the distance between them something far more suitable for a teacher and a student. "You can't keep doing this, the staring and the comments and the _touching_."

Having quickly recovered from the shock of being physically rejected, Imayoshi smiled again but this time it was brittle, unconvincing. "You can't tell me that you don't want me."

"I don't want you," Harasawa immediately repeated, but they could both hear how hollow and fake the words sounded. "And even if I did, I _can't_."

"I'm eighteen," Imayoshi pointed out, making Harasawa shake his head.

"You're my _student_ ," he said firmly, "and yes, you're eighteen, but I'm forty-two. I've seen your maths results, so I'm certain that you can work out that there are just _too many years difference_ there. I'm not going to risk my job for you."

"You're serious," Imayoshi said flatly, his lack of tone hiding what he was really thinking. "You can barely keep your eyes off me and yet..."

"Sexual attraction doesn't mean anything," Harasawa said before he could realise how big of an opening he'd just given Imayoshi. The boy's glasses glinted eerily as he tipped his head a little to look up at his coach, a real smile spreading across his face.

"So you _are_ attracted to me."

"So _what_?" Harasawa finally exploded, not even bothering to make a token excuse for himself. "I'm old enough to be your father and on top of that, you don't even know what you're asking for. You're mature for your age, yes, but that isn't enough to make up for the fact that there are twenty-four goddamn years between us! And on top of all that, I am your _teacher_ , and absolutely anything that happened between us would be well and truly in the realm of _completely inappropriate_."

Shoving a frustrated hand through his hair, Harasawa glared down at Imayoshi, whose expression seemed to be utterly frozen in place. "I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing, but it stops here. I won't be a part of it, and I won't let you ruin my life because you _think_ that I'm what you want for whatever reason. Forget about me and go find someone your own age, someone who you can be open with and who isn't going to get carted off to jail for being with you."

For a brief moment, Harasawa thought he saw something akin to rage flash across Imayoshi's face before his usual perfect mask fell back into place, closed eyes and plastic smile hiding whatever was going on in his devious brain. "Well, at least I can say that I tried. If you'll excuse me, Sensei, I have homework that needs to be completed."

Harasawa could only gawk silently as Imayoshi turned around without another word, leaving the gym with his back straight and his head held high. It felt like a weight had been lifted off Harasawa's shoulders, but he couldn't explain why he felt so strangely empty inside.

He kicked the ball trolley as he walked past it, a sound of pure frustration leaving his mouth as he wondered if he'd ever get the images of Imayoshi Shouichi out of his brain.


	3. People Don't Just Grow Morals

As if it had never happened in the first place, everything returned completely to normal the next day. Imayoshi smiled politely as he walked into the chemistry lab, but it wasn't infused with salacious intent and his tone as he greeted his teacher didn't promise things that Harasawa felt guilty just _considering_. Each time that his eyes flicked towards Imayoshi's seat he could see that the boy's head was down, trained on his notebook as he copied the notes that Harasawa was writing on the board.

He felt off-balance without that heated stare following him, and he was certain that the students could tell that something was wrong. Still, he tried his best to maintain normalcy, not wanting Imayoshi to sense his weakness.

Training sessions became easy all over again, Imayoshi no longer flashing his body at the slightest provocation or dramatically bending over. No one else seemed to notice that anything was different, but Harasawa knew.

Although he wouldn't go so far as to say that he _missed_ Imayoshi's casual friendliness, it was certainly odd to have the boy suddenly switch to maintaining careful, measured distance between them. He actually felt a little bit ill about the whole thing, knowing that despite the lack of outward signs he had quite possibly managed to hurt the normally unflappable boy.

And if sometimes, hidden behind the securely closed doors of his apartment, Harasawa still touched himself like a teenager to fantasies of Imayoshi riding his dick as if he was born to take it, then that was his own business and nobody needed to know about it.

And so the rhythm of the school year returned to normal, with Harasawa and Imayoshi leading the team to their unfortunate defeat at the hands of Seirin during the Winter Cup, and then the lead-up beginning for final exams.

Imayoshi didn't interact with him unless he absolutely had to, and so from his rejection until graduation they discussed little more than basketball and chemistry. The knowledge that despite everything, Imayoshi had managed to get into a top university didn't make Harasawa feel any less guilty, though.

He considered pulling the boy aside to apologise at the graduation ceremony, but he couldn't drag up the courage to talk to him alone and let the opportunity pass him by, simply congratulating Imayoshi at the same time as he praised all of the third years from the basketball team.

The captain position was passed onto Wakamatsu and although Harasawa gave a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to repeat the year's issues with the new, straight-as-an-arrow captain, he knew that he was going to miss Imayoshi.

But the boy was going places, and Harasawa wouldn't allow himself to stand in the way of that, so he simply praised Imayoshi's hard work and left, resigning himself to most likely never laying eyes on Imayoshi again.

And he didn't, for a while at least. His days went back to the usual steady rotation of teaching, coaching, grading and drinking, with none of his new first-year admirers coming anywhere close to the brazenly obvious seduction attempts of Imayoshi. The new school year ticked by, nothing out of the ordinary happening until a nondescript day in October.

After a training session that was more like an hour of Wakamatsu screaming at Aomine over the _stupidest_ things, Harasawa was glad to be retiring to his home where he could enjoy the peace and quiet. He had removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves before collapsing in front of his television, but he was still wearing his black pants and had foregone his house slippers in favour of bare feet, feeling too lazy to change any more than that.

The sound of his doorbell ringing made him groan in frustration, levering himself out of his chair with more effort than a fit forty-something should have needed. If it was someone trying to sell him something, then they were going to be in for an unpleasant surprise.

When he pulled the door open, though, he froze in place as he took in the sight before him. Imayoshi Shouichi stood in his doorway, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his jeans that were possibly just a _little_ tighter than was strictly necessary. His hair had grown slightly longer since Harasawa had last seen him, but that just meant his face was framed even more nicely than it had been before, and Harasawa had to admit that university life was clearly agreeing with him.

He should have guessed that Imayoshi had given up too easily back then, and that it had apparently all just been some sort of long con.

"Why do you know where I live?" He finally managed to ask, ignoring the clearly mocking smile that Imayoshi had taken on the longer that the silence had stretched between them.

"Good evening, Shouichi," Imayoshi said in a voice that was just slightly imitating Harasawa's own. "It's been such a long time and it's lovely to see you, Shouichi. Won't you come in, Shouichi?"

Imayoshi moved as if to slip past Harasawa and into the apartment, but Harasawa just crossed his arms and stood steady in the doorway, making Imayoshi pull up short.

"I'll ask again. Why do you know where I live?"

Imayoshi grinned, and the familiar sight made Harasawa's stomach flip uncomfortably as he was struck once again by just how attractive the boy- or really, man- could be without making the slightest effort.

"Everybody has a price, Sensei, and I'm sure you know what some people will do for a pretty face."

Considering that Harasawa himself barely knew how he'd ever managed to say no to Imayoshi, he couldn't exactly blame whoever had blabbed about his address. But having Imayoshi at his apartment felt uncomfortably intimate, and he didn't know what he would do if he let the other man inside.

Except when Imayoshi moved towards the doorway once again, Harasawa wasn't prepared for the hand that touched his waist and then slipped around to touch his ass, and he took a step back in surprise. Imayoshi seized the chance and slipped past Harasawa as surely as he did any defender, leaving the teacher to watch in dismay as Imayoshi surveyed the apartment from the inside.

"This is nice," Imayoshi murmured as he skimmed the titles of the books on the shelves, "Cleaner than I was expecting from a long-term bachelor such as yourself."

Harasawa couldn't help but bristle at the assumption, knowing that Imayoshi was playing games with him but completely unable to ignore the bait. "You said yourself that it's been a long time. I might have picked up a partner since you graduated."

"You haven't," Imayoshi replied with unflappable confidence, wandering over to look at a picture hanging on the wall. "I doubt you've even had sex since the last time I saw you."

Harasawa wasn't sure why he felt the need to lie, but Imayoshi was targeting his pride and he couldn't allow that to happen. "Not that it's any of your business, but I have."

"Oh?" Imayoshi said with feigned surprise, turning away from the picture and actually looking at Harasawa. "Male or female?"

"Male," Harasawa automatically responded, knowing that he'd walked into yet another trap when Imayoshi's grin widened.

"Did he have black hair? Was he shorter than you, but still tall for a Japanese man? Athletic build, grey eyes, maybe wears glasses?"

"I know what you're getting at," Harasawa spat out, feeling attacked, "and I haven't been pining after you or whatever you seem to think. He wasn't any of those things, and he was thirty-eight; a much more appropriate age for someone like me."

"I think you're lying," Imayoshi said pleasantly, his eyes hidden from view. "It's not nice to lie to people."

"Think what you like, just do it somewhere else. I want you to leave."

"Don't be like that," Imayoshi cooed, wandering towards Harasawa until he was standing just a bit too close to the other man. "I just want to catch up with my favourite teacher."

Shuffling away from Imayoshi, Harasawa glared down at him. "I thought you were over your silly fascination with me."

"I know that I'm younger than you, but please don't treat me like a child. I'm not your student any more, and that means that now there's nothing wrong with me doing _this_." Before Harasawa could react, Imayoshi had a hand curled in the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. Even though Harasawa was too thrown out to react, Imayoshi flawlessly took the lead, pushing against Harasawa's lips and even letting his tongue flick out against them.

Once Harasawa had gotten over the initial shock, he gripped Imayoshi by the upper arms and pushed him backwards, frowning at the taste of the other man on his lips. "I already told you, we're not doing this. Go home."

Imayoshi was silent for a few moments, removing Harasawa's hands from his arms but not bothering to move either closer or further away. When he spoke again, his words lacked his usual polite cover, his actual emotions starting to shine through in what was a very rare occurrence.

"I know that you want me. I've wanted you for too long for this to just be a childish delusion, and now that we're no longer teacher and student there's nothing wrong with the idea of _us_. You keep talking about our age difference like it's some insurmountable barrier, but it's not. You're just using it as an excuse because you're _scared_ , scared of connecting with another human being when you've been on your own for so long. You're a coward, Harasawa Katsunori."

"So what if I am, hmm? So what if I'm worried about the consequences of being with someone who is too young to legally drink? You think everything is going to work out perfectly just because you want it to? Well let me tell you something, Imayoshi: if you think it's that easy, then you really are nowhere near as grown up as you think you are."

"I don't care," Imayoshi actually _snarled_ , his perfectly maintained mask falling away completely as he stepped towards Harasawa, forcing him back against the wall. It wouldn't have taken much for Harasawa to get away, but despite his words he couldn't bring himself to shove Imayoshi away, the man's body up against his just as tempting as it had been back at Touou. "I don't care what _might_ go wrong, I care about what might go right. I like you more than I probably should, and you _ruin_ me. Why are you fighting so hard? We both know that you want nothing more than to have me naked in your bed."

This time it was Harasawa who initiated the kiss, surging forward and grabbing at Imayoshi, spinning them both around to press the other man into the wall while their lips were still connected.

"You don't know what you're asking for," Harasawa forced out between kisses, pausing to take Imayoshi's lips again. "You don't have the slightest clue, but I can't keep saying no to you. Not even when you could destroy my reputation and possibly my life on a fucking whim."

Seeing flashes of Imayoshi's true face, the one that was normally hidden behind layer upon layer of fake smiles and bland politeness, had ripped away Harasawa's misgivings and made him throw caution to the wind. He didn't know whether Imayoshi was after a one time thing or chasing a more serious relationship, but he was _tired_. Harasawa was so tired of not being able to have what had been dangled in front of him for so long, and he felt like he'd finally snapped.

From the way that Imayoshi smiled into their kiss, accepting Harasawa's tongue into his mouth, it didn't seem like he was going to complain about it. The hand that groped at Harasawa's crotch backed up that idea, and Harasawa buried a hand in Imayoshi's messy black hair, humming against Imayoshi's lips as that clever hand continued to massage him through his pants.

"I always knew you wanted me," Imayoshi grinned as he pulled back from the kiss, lightly squeezing Harasawa so that there was absolutely no doubt what he was referring to. "The other boys would talk about the students they wanted, but I could only see _you_. And then one day I realised that you could see me back."

"Shut up," Harasawa muttered without heat, wanting to see Imayoshi as a man and a lover without being reminded of their former student-teacher relationship. He knew he'd have to deal with it at some point, but right now he just wanted to do what he'd been fantasising about for months. "Do you want to fuck?"

"You've changed your tune," Imayoshi mocked lightly, hand stilling on Harasawa's crotch.

"I can still change it back," Harasawa warned, even though he knew he wouldn't. But he needed Imayoshi to clearly agree to whatever they were going to do, even if it was just to soothe his own guilty conscience over hooking up with someone so much younger than himself.

"Don't be like that, we both know that I want you to shove your cock up my ass so hard that I'll be feeling it for _days_." The unexpected vulgarity coming from Imayoshi's mouth was so hot that Harasawa felt his dick jerk in his pants, Imayoshi also feeling the movement and grinning like a true predator.

"Is dirty talk is one of your turn-ons? I'll happily tell you all of the different ways I want you to fuck me, just as long as it keeps you interested."

"That's not necessary."

Hooking his fingers into Harasawa's belt, Imayoshi tugged at it a little, just enough to be a tease. "So what do you say? Will you take me to bed?"

Harasawa didn't bother answering, just pulled away from Imayoshi and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. Taking the hint, Imayoshi tugged off his dark sweater and dutifully followed when Harasawa led him towards the bedroom, both of them stripping as they went. By the time Harasawa was taking off his underwear, leaving him completely naked, Imayoshi was already lounging on the bed like an opulent king, his legs spread and shamelessly showing off his flushed, hard cock.

"You look good for an old man," Imayoshi teased, lightly running one hand over his dick. "Got lube?"

"Second drawer," Harasawa replied absently, utterly distracted by the sight of Imayoshi wanking in his bed. He put out a hand for the bottle that Imayoshi grabbed, only to be thrown off when Imayoshi just shook his head.

"I'm going to open myself up, and you're going to stand there and watch."

Harasawa groaned and Imayoshi laughed, looking altogether too pleased with himself as he slicked up his fingers. His movements were too confident as he relaxed back, one hand playing with his balls as his other index finger gently prodded at his hole, apparently answering Harasawa's much earlier question as to whether Imayoshi liked to finger himself while masturbating.

His dick _hurt_ when Imayoshi finally slid a finger inside himself, his body opening up to the intrusion in a way that no virgin's body ever could.

"You've done this before," Harasawa said, watching the light flash off Imayoshi's slightly askew glasses as he smiled far too knowingly.

"Does that make you mad?" Imayoshi grinned as he slipped another finger inside himself. "Oh, that's _nice_."

He sighed happily as he moved his fingers a little faster, Harasawa's eyes trained to the spot between his legs. The sight made Harasawa's dick jerk uncomfortably, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck Imayoshi until he _screamed_.

"I prefer my men experienced," Harasawa finally decided to answer, gently squeezing himself in an effort to lessen some of his tension. Imayoshi didn't take the bait, just humming absently as he continued to open himself up.

 _Finally_ , when Harasawa thought that he was going to go crazy from being allowed to look at but not touch the man who had been parading around in front of him for far too long, Imayoshi pulled his long fingers out of his hole and propped himself up on his arms, looking through the fall of his hair like a fucking sex god. Harasawa didn't wait for an invitation, grabbing a box of condoms and throwing them onto the bed before quickly following afterwards.

Imayoshi's clean hand was possibly a bit too tight in his hair as they kissed again, naked bodies sliding together and making them shiver whenever their hard cocks caught the right places. Harasawa was looming over the younger man when he finally remembered to pull off Imayoshi's glasses and set them on the bedside table. He couldn't remember ever seeing Imayoshi without his glasses for any real amount of time, and it was with almost reverent hands that he pulled them off his face, making Imayoshi blink a little as his vision blurred.

He actually looked a little vulnerable without the layer of glass hiding his eyes, but Harasawa had to admit that he was still utterly _gorgeous_. Young, too young for Harasawa to be touching, but gorgeous all the same.

Maybe it spoke volumes to just how fucked up Harasawa had somehow managed to become, but it was _far_ too easy for him to ignore the guilty shame he felt at the reminder of Imayoshi's age. When they were naked together, Imayoshi ready to take his dick for the first time, it didn't matter that there was decades between them.

He was a bad person. He didn't care. He had a condom ready to go on his dick and his hand out for the lube that Imayoshi had been using, kissing and licking at the other man's neck while he slicked himself up.

"You ready?" Harasawa asked as he settled himself between Imayoshi's legs, a brief flash of sentimentality making him brush Imayoshi's long fringe out of his uncovered eyes. He almost immediately regretted the decision, because he knew that Imayoshi was judging him for the intimacy of the gesture.

Imayoshi grinned evilly, shaking his head so that his hair fell back down to cover at least a little of his gaze. "Fuck me, Sensei."

" _Please_ don't," Harasawa muttered, but his point was lost when he hauled Imayoshi's legs up regardless, exposing him wide and then wrapping one hand around his own cock to guide it inside.

The first slide into Imayoshi's slick hole was simultaneously the best and worst thing that Harasawa had ever felt. The other man was tight and warm and _perfect_ , but god, he'd had meetings with Imayoshi's father. He'd _taught_ Imayoshi's sister.

He was going to hell for this one, wasn't he.

But stopping now wasn't going to make him feel any better about himself and he forced those unwelcome thoughts out of his mind, focusing instead on the hot body around him. One of Imayoshi's hands was around the back of his neck and the young man rolled his hips, dragging Harasawa out of his daze and back into the present.

" _Katsu_ ," Imayoshi cooed mockingly, still moving his hips even as Harasawa took the hint and started to slowly thrust. "Pay attention to what's happening or I'll get offended."

"You know damn well that no one can ever take their eyes off you," Harasawa grunted as his hips slammed against Imayoshi's body, exposed grey eyes challenging him to the point where he had to duck his head away from that gaze, sucking a dangerously possessive mark just above Imayoshi's collarbone.

"I wouldn't have a clue," Imayoshi said with only the slightest bit of breathlessness in his voice, hand holding Harasawa's head close to his chest, "I told you that I never saw anyone except you."

"From anyone else," Harasawa muttered before pausing to press his lips against smooth skin again, "that would almost be sweet. From you, though, I'm not sure."

Imayoshi laughed, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and making Harasawa shudder. "If you can still talk, you are clearly not fucking me hard enough."

That was a challenge that Harasawa wasn't going to turn down, particularly from one of the most infuriating, impertinent nineteen-year-olds he'd ever had the displeasure of dealing with. His hands tightened around Imayoshi's narrow waist and he squeezed once as a brief warning, before thanking his lucky stars that he'd kept fit and beginning to really drill into the body underneath him.

Imayoshi laughed again but it was more breathless than before, sounding composed but happy to be getting what he wanted. He was dripping against his own stomach but Harasawa didn't make a single move to help him out, knowing that if he gave everything to the other man then he would never be able to get it back.

Imayoshi either didn't care or didn't notice, making happy little noises that were obviously measured and deliberate to the slightest sound. Harasawa knew that he would probably never be able to break that mask but he tried anyway, slamming into Imayoshi until he knew that he just couldn't hold on any more.

He was only forty-two, but Imayoshi was nineteen and at the prime of his athletic life; it wasn't surprising that Harasawa came first. Imayoshi's smile became triumphant when he felt Harasawa lose his rhythm and just shove his cock as far as he could into the body underneath him, riding the older man through his orgasm and taking charge the minute he felt Harasawa go a little slack.

Harasawa barely got to appreciate his afterglow before Imayoshi had him rolled onto his back, slipping off his dick and straddling his waist, hard cock in hand. All Harasawa could do was watch as Imayoshi jerked himself off, muscles tensing beautifully as he eventually dragged out his own orgasm, splattering come all over Harasawa's chest with a little even falling on his chin.

It felt horrifically like Imayoshi was marking his territory but Harasawa let it happen without complaint, and if he was a younger man then maybe the feel of warm liquid hitting his skin would have been enough to get him hard again. As it was, he felt done and Imayoshi seemed to sense that, still straddling Harasawa's waist but settling back more casually.

"Are you going to throw me out?" It wasn't unsure or even curious, Imayoshi once again sounding like he knew what the answer would be. Harasawa wasn't willing to play his game, looking away under the pretence of returning Imayoshi's glasses to him.

"You've got enough on me now to ruin my life, there's really no point in tossing you out, is there?"

"You have such low opinions of me," Imayoshi drawled once his glasses were back in place, immediately looking far more in control than someone who'd just come all over their former teacher's chest should have. "Why are you acting like I'm always planning something?"

"The innocent act is getting old, Imayoshi. What do you _want_?"

"I want you," Imayoshi purred, tapping his fingers against Harasawa's messy chest. "I want you over and over again."

Harasawa sighed and looked off to the side, his sense of shame finally reappearing to struggle with his desire. Imayoshi wasn't his student any more, and despite his age he really was one of the smartest, most mature people that Harasawa had ever met.

The fact that they were both men would probably cause more outrage than their previous relationship, regardless of how _dirty-bad-wrong_ the whole situation was making Harasawa feel. Imayoshi had dug his claws into Harasawa now though, and it was with a heavy sigh that the older man coaxed Imayoshi off his waist, pulling the other man's body until they were laying next to each other.

"You can stay tonight."

 _You can stay for as long as you want._

"Your generosity is just endless, Katsunori."

 _I know you can't let me go now._

"Shut up and go to sleep."

 _You're right, and it terrifies me_.

Imayoshi grinned and the expression filled Harasawa with a truly bizarre mix of fear and anticipation, yet he still couldn't force himself to believe that he'd made a mistake. He wasn't sure how things would work out between them, but it was too late for him now.

He'd walked into the spider's web months ago, back in his office with Imayoshi looming _way_ too close over the desk, and apparently he was still caught in it as hopelessly as any insect.

But tomorrow could wait, particularly when Imayoshi had pulled his glasses off again and slung his arm over Harasawa's naked body, the possessive gesture obvious. It was too late to back out now, so he resolved to appreciate that he'd taken what he wanted, and see where the future would take them.

Maybe one day he'd even get another glance at what was going on beneath Imayoshi Shouichi's constant, unmoving smile.


End file.
